It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to get a happy ending. Instead, we got our asses handed to us, as just another reminder that this world is cruel and ugly. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if we believed enough, if we tried hard enough, if we had enough faith and man power we could move mountains. Guess I was wrong.

It all happened like a dream, a terrible dream that you can't wake up from. The strike had been a failure. For the second time cops showed up and soaked us real good. No amount of papers we printed would make a difference. No number of children in the square changed their minds. We were nothing more than a nuisance that needed to be quieted, stomped into the ground until there was nothing left. And now here we are, broken battered, beaten.

I don't know what happened to the other guys. All I know is that things can't be good for them. I tried to help as many of the kids as I could in the chaos. I wasn't leaving anyone behind again, not after last time. But of course, this decision lead me to where I am now. Caught by a Spider and put back in his web. And this time, I don't think there's any escape for me.

I was practically dragged there, pushed and shoved until I couldn't stand no more. When we arrived, I was taken up to an empty room, and . . . I won't entertain you with that particular series of events. But when they were done with me, I was tossed aside into another, less empty room. There were beds all lining the walls, full to the brim with other kids, so many that some even had to lie on the floor for space. And don't even get me started on the smell. I could almost imagine something, or someone had died in this room, and the thought made me shudder.

"Stay put, Kelly," the older Delancey spat before slamming the door behind me. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go, anyways. We were on the third floor, and as far as I could tell, I wasn't gonna be making any jumps from here.

"Jack?" a quiet voice asked, coming from the back corner of the room. I looked behind me, trying to see who that familiar voice was, and was met with the eyes of my friend.

"Crutchie," I breathed, painfully pulling myself to my feet. My ribs felt like they had all been broken, though I'm sure it was nothing more than one or two cracked, and every step I took felt like a mile. But I made it to his bed, sitting down beside where he sat, feeling breathless.

"How's it going, kid?" I asked, putting an arm around his shoulders. I noticed that unlike every other bed in the room, Crutchie's was empty save for himself. Whether he was given his own bed out of kindness, or shunning, I didn't want to know, at least not now. I was just glad to see that my friend was at least in one piece, though I had to admit, he was looking a little worse for wear. I'm sure I was too.

"You-you'se ain't supposed to be here," he stammered, worry clouding his eyes. "You'se supposed to be with the others, winning the strike." His words became shakier, as if he were beginning to realize the reality of the situation before I even said a word.

I shook my head solemnly. "It didn't work, kid," I whispered. "We failed."

Crutchie shook his head in disbelief. "No," he breathed. "No that can't be true."

I smiled briefly, but the action didn't reach my eyes. "It's okay," I assured him. "We'll figure something out."

I just wanted to see that smile again, the one that he always wore. It wasn't right seeing him like this, dejected and without hope. Even if all had been lost, I couldn't bear to see Crutchie lose his hope, the one thing that set him apart from the rest of us. He always had so much of it.

"You promise?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for some consolation that everything would be okay.

I nodded. "Promise."


I shouldn't make promises. Not if I don't know if I can keep them. I had no reason to believe things would get better, just an empty hope that maybe, somehow, fate would smile on us.

But I was wrong.

They came for me again. In the middle of the night I was woken and dragged out of my bed. It was completely dark, but I could hear Crutchie beside me, pleading for them to stop. They didn't listen of course. I was taken back to that room, back to hell. They beat me, not because they got anything out of it, but just because they could. Because I had given them trouble in the past and it was satisfying for them to show some dominance over me. When they were mercifully done, I was brought back to the room with all the kids and thrown to the floor, the door creaking shut behind me, locking into place. I told Crutchie not to worry about me, that I would be okay.

I don't think he believed me. I don't think I believed me, either.

That morning we were woken early by Snyder, banging on the door and shouting for us to get out of bed. It hurt too much to move, but I had to anyways. I couldn't let anyone think I was weak, least of all Crutchie.

We all stood in single file around our beds. Snyder inspected us just as he would do every morning, making sure none of us were hiding anything, or maybe just to see if we could even stand. My legs felt wobbly, but I could manage it without too much trouble. I looked to my right to see Crutchie, who held his own pretty well, all things considered. He still leaned more heavily on his crutch than was normal, but I was just glad to see him standing at all. When I had visited him all those nights before, he couldn't even make it to the window. At least he had recovered somewhat since then.

When we were finished being inspected by Snyder we were allowed to go downstairs. Not for breakfast or anything, no. There were chores that needed to be done, and Snyder and his goons sure as hell weren't gonna be the ones to do them.

I knew the drill well. Just keep your head down and do as you're told and everything would be peachy. Except that wasn't always an option. There were too many kids in this place, little kids who couldn't do the heavy lifting or didn't have the stamina for the constant work. Sometimes kids would collapse where they stood, right in the middle of scrubbing the walls or cleaning a baseboard. And then one of Snyder's men would come, whip in hand. I couldn't do nothing, I couldn't stand by and just watch kids get beat. It wasn't right.

So, I did something about it. I stood up to the jerks, made sure they didn't beat this poor kid senseless. Instead I just got a beating of my own and a new black eye to match the other bruises on my face. But it was alright. The kid didn't get hurt, and that's all that mattered.

It wasn't until close to dinner when we were allowed food. And by we, I mean everyone except me. I was still 'being punished for my actions' and didn't get what they were offering. Not that I wanted moldy bread anyways.

"Here," Crutchie whispered, breaking off a piece of his bread and holding it out for me as discretely as he could.

I shook my head. "You're just gonna get yourself in trouble," I warned him, pushing the bread back towards him and eyeing the guard that stood only a few feet away, eyes watching the other kids like a hawk.

"I don't care, you need to eat," Crutchie insisted, pushing the bread back towards me. "I'se got plenty for myself."

"What's going on over there?" a voice suddenly shouted.

Crutchie immediately did his best to stuff the piece of bread back into the rest of his slice, but not before we were approached by the guard in question.

"Sharing, are we?" he asked, glaring down at the two of us, hand twitching to the whip at his side.

"N-no, I was just—" Crutchie stammered before being cut off by the guard suddenly grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward, lifting Crutchie to his feet so that he dangled a few inches off the ground.

"Your friend ain't someone to be sharing with," the guard spat.

"But he's gotta eat too," Crutchie began to argue before receiving a sudden slap to the face.

"Are you talking back to me?" the guard asked, nostrils flaring.

"It was my fault, alright," I quickly stepped in, getting to my feet. "I told him to give me a piece. It wasn't his idea."

The guard looked between me and Crutchie, before decisively dropping Crutchie to the floor. The kid landed with an "oof" and no doubt it hurt. The guard turned his attention towards me, grabbing me by the collar and tugging me away from the rest of the kids. It was time for more punishments, I presumed.

The punishments never seemed to end.


For a third time, I was thrown back into that overcrowded room, landing hard on my side. I could feel a dozen eyes fixed on me, who knows what rumors floating in the air.

"Jack, you're back!" Crutchie said excitedly, hobbling over to where I lay on the ground, holding out a hand to help me up. I graciously took it, standing with a little difficulty, but managing the task all the same.

"We gotta get out of here," Crutchie muttered, helping to lead me back to our bed. "If they keep this up you won't be able to stand much longer."

"I'm fine," I assured him, a painful hiss blowing through my teeth as I sat down on the bed.

"Just look at yourself, you ain't fine," Crutchie argued, sitting down next to me. "You look like hell, and that's just me being nice about it."

I started to argue, but was interrupted by another voice from across the room. "You ain't gonna make it two feet if you try to escape," a kid with dark eyes and a scowl on his face snapped at us. "All you'se gonna do is get the rest of us in trouble."

"Hey, maybe this ain't none of your business," I shot back, immediately not liking the kid.

He got up from the bed where he sat, sauntering over to Crutchie and I. "With the way those guys have their eyes on you, and your crippled friend here, you'd be lucky to make it out of that door," he sneered, pointing to the bedroom door on our left.

"Maybe we ain't taking the door," I challenged, ready to stand to my feet. I hated being looked down on, especially by kids who weren't even near my age.

"Right, you'll take the window three stories down," the kid responded, almost laughing. "Have fun jumping. Death is one way to get out of this place, I suppose."

"Hey, he's made it out before and he can do it again," Crutchie put in, folding his arms indignantly.

"Oh really?" the kid asked. "And just how did he manage that?"

"He's Jack Kelly," Crutchie said proudly. "And if you ain't heard of him, you ain't been around long enough."

The kid's eyes widened for the briefest of moments before returning to their normal size. "Oh, so you're that kid, huh?" he remarked. "If you're so great, then why'se you end up back in this place?"

I didn't answer, I couldn't. Not in front of all these kids, not in front of Crutchie. I hadn't gone into details the night before, but I couldn't let him know how badly we failed, how hopeless it all was. No, I kept my mouth shut, glaring up at the boy in front of me. That was the only answer he would get.

The kid smirked. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, before returning to his own bed, holding his head as proudly as you could in a place like this. Crutchie looked at me, his eyes gone solemn. He didn't push for any answers, he just sat there quietly, probably feeling some sense of betrayal at my lack of action. I'm sorry, Crutchie, but I just don't know what to do. Not anymore.

We didn't sleep too easily that night. I kept tossing and turning and every time I looked over I saw Crutchie just lying there, eyes open and staring at the bottom of the bunk above us. I hate to say it, but I think this place was starting to break his spirit, and I was certainly not helping the situation.

We had lost. Bad. Who knows what happened to the other newsboys. Who knows where any of them are now. Davey, Les, Race, Specs, Romeo, Spot and his group, all of them. There was no chance any of them kept their jobs, at least not selling for the World, and probably nowhere else would take them after this mess. And it was all my fault.

I had to get out of here. I had to make this right. No way was I gonna sit around and just let them win like this. The newsboys deserved better. Davey and Les deserved better. Crutchie deserved better. Every kid in this stinking city deserved better.

It was time I stopped moping around and did something about it.